


Love In A Name

by Reidluver



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Gen, Good Parent Grace Hargreeves, Grace is the best robot mom, Hurt/Comfort, Number Five | The Boy Gets A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28094343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reidluver/pseuds/Reidluver
Summary: Five has no need for a name, but he knows someone who does. And for the first time in his life, the universe decides to reward him for his kindness.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Grace Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 15
Kudos: 157





	Love In A Name

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written since COVID started. I've been working in the lab nonstop but finally found a moment to catch up on Umbrella Academy. Boy do I relate to Five running on fumes while desperately trying to save the world. Anyway, I had Feelings about the implications of Five not having a name so here's a fic.

It was the day before their eleventh birthday, and Five finally managed to steal a moment alone with Grace. They’d just finished group training and Two would be in the shower for another eight minutes. He had to make this quick. Grace was spooning vegetables onto a sheet and her face widened into a plastic smile when she noticed him.

“Seven isn’t getting a name tomorrow,” Five said.

Grace’s smile fell. “No. I didn’t think it was fair for her to be left out, but—”

“She’s not going to talk to the press so why bother, right?” Five scowled at the floor. He knew not to expect anything different, but a small part of him had hoped . . .

Sometimes Five wished he had Six’s powers. Then he could have an “accident” during training and oops, looks like the Horror ate Reginald. Five made the mistake of suggesting that to Six once, and Six didn’t speak to him for two weeks. Given how much Six loathed housing a rift to an Eldritch beast in his stomach, Five figured his brother would see the logic in his plan. Unfortunately, Six was too nice for his own good.

“I’d like to make a request."

“Of course, dear.” Grace wiped her hands on her apron and moved closer. “Anything you want.”

Five glanced around the room to ensure they were alone. He didn’t want any of his siblings ruining the surprise or for Reginald to find out too soon. “Give Seven a name instead of me,” he said. “It’s my gift so I should have a say in how it’s used. If Reginald disagrees, then it’s his fault for letting me know ahead of time.”

Grace put a hand on her chest and gave Five a look so fond and loving it made his ears burn. “You’re such a good brother, Five.”

The urge to fold his arms was overwhelming, but that was too obvious a sign of discomfort. Nonchalance was safest, so Five stuck his hands in his pockets. “Not at all. Just didn’t want you to go through all that trouble for nothing.” And he truly didn’t care about getting a “normal” name. What difference would it make? A name didn’t change who you were. Five didn’t understand why his siblings hadn’t developed any sense of self-actualization. Besides, he liked numbers. Math was the secret to unlocking time travel. Why wouldn’t he like his name? His _father_ may have callously assigned him a number at birth, but Five had made the name his own.

“Taking care of you children is no trouble at all,” Grace said, still smiling. Five looked away, the dull ache he’d tried so hard to bury still rearing its ugly head. He used to believe Grace truly loved them all, that she was a shield against their father’s cruelty. He believed if they all spent enough time with her, she’d fight for them. Speak out against Reginald’s inhumane “training” or even take them away somewhere safe. She was a robot; Reginald was a frail old man. He wouldn’t stand a chance.

But it was all a lie. Grace was programmed by Reginald to be their nanny. (Not their mom—Two gave her that name and it stuck) She obeyed _him_. A tool, nothing more. Grace acted like she cared because it was in her code. Robots couldn’t love. To believe otherwise was childish, something Two refused to understand.

Pogo was the only other choice, but Five knew he had better luck with the robot. He didn’t know the story, what made Pogo swear such fealty to their father, but it didn’t matter. It was obvious Pogo cared for all of them, that he did what he could to ease the pain of their training, but he’d never save them. He was just as much a prisoner as they were, and he didn’t have powers. One phone call and Pogo, a talking chimpanzee with an above-average human intelligence, would be stuck in a lab for the rest of his life.

That left Five as their only hope for escape. He had to save his siblings on his own. God knows none of them could do it. One and Three were too obsessed with pleasing Reginald to see him for what he really was, and the others were too beaten down and traumatized by their training (or lack of it). That, and they were too stupid to come up with a way out.

The sooner Five learned how to time travel and get them the hell out of this shithole, the better.

Five considered telling them his plans many times, but decided against it. What if they accidentally told their father? It would ruin everything. Five wasn’t sure how Reginald would do it, but he’d find a way to stop Five. No, it was better he keep it a secret until everything was ready. Then they’d escape into time, just far enough to keep Reginald off their tracks and find somewhere to live. Once his siblings were out from under their father’s abusive thumb, they had a chance to actually make something of themselves and develop a brain.

They’d all be _safe_.

“Whatever you say, Grace.” Her hand touched his shoulder and Five braced against it. She was their father’s carrot; he couldn’t allow himself to be comforted by her.

He still had to play the part of dutiful son however, so he glanced up at her instead of jumping to his room like he wanted to.

“I’ll give Seven a name in your place, but don’t think you’re getting out of a birthday present, young man.” Grace shook a finger at him before reaching out to tuck his hair behind his ear. “Pay close attention to the name I give her and you’ll see.”

Well that was . . . unexpected. How could someone else’s name have any meaning to him? It was an odd thought, but it didn’t matter. Tomorrow, Seven would have a name and feel included, and Five would have another small victory against his “father.” Call it petty or insignificant, but Five was reduced to guerilla warfare. Every act of defiance would add up in the end.

Five turned to leave then remembered he hadn’t finished his request. He glanced at the clock and saw he had less than a minute to spare. “I don’t want Seven to know, so pretend you’re going to give me a name,” he said. “I’ll reject it then, so it'll look like you always meant to give her one.”

“Of course, dear. Consider it done.” The look on Grace’s face was an odd one, but Five didn’t have the time to ponder its meaning. The hall behind him echoed with Two's pounding footsteps, so Five jumped to his room.

\--

The next day after lunch was the time they'd receive their gift. Grace began by wishing them all a happy birthday and explained the naming process. Five forced himself to sit still. They’d moved all their chairs to one side of the table, so if asked he could say he didn’t appreciate being so close to everyone. Thankfully, everyone else had their eyes glued to Grace. She explained the names were chosen to reflect their heritage and if they didn’t fully love the name, she’d try again. While it was a nice gesture, Five knew his siblings would love any name Grace gave them, especially Two. She could name him Barf and Two would have it embroidered on all his clothes.

Grace turned to the “oldest” brother. “Number One—Luther.

“Number Two—Diego.

“Number Three—Allison.

“Number Four—Klaus.

“Number Five—”

“I don’t want one.”

Until now, everyone had been silent. When their name was given, each person’s face would break out into a smile they never dared to show around their father. Then they’d try out their name without speaking, like they were privately tasting it. As if speaking out loud would shatter the moment and they’d wake up in their beds without a name.

Five ignored the stares, folded his arms, and glared in the direction of Reginald’s study. Part of him wanted Reginald there, for the satisfaction of denying the “gift” to his father’s face, and to see his reaction when Seven got a name instead. It was probably for the best though. This way Reginald wouldn’t be able to stop Seven from getting her name.

“What do you mean you don’t want one?” Luther’s voice broke through the silence.

“Why do you always have to be such an asshole?”

“Ho-how could you do that to m-mom?”

“What’s your problem?”

“Now, now children,” Grace said, raising her hands. “If Five doesn’t want a name that’s his choice.”

“B-b-but that’s mean!” Two (no, it was _Diego_ now) clutched his knives as if he meant to defend Grace’s honor. Five rolled his eyes, not needing to fake his disbelief at Diego’s ignorance. A robot had no feelings. She was a convincing actress though, Five had to admit. Might as well keep up the act like he always did.

Five flashed a smirk at Diego, the edges of his mouth curling into what Six affectionately termed his “murder smile”. It was a compliment, really. Five spent hours perfecting it in front of the mirror. It was amusing how people could be so disarmed or distracted by a facial expression.

“It’s just Five being Five,” Luther said, as if he hadn't blown up like the rest of them. “Let mom finish.”

“Thank you, Luther dear.” Diego shifted his scowl to Luther and Five mentally sagged in relief. His siblings really were too stupid. Honestly, where would they be without him?

“Number Six—Ben.”

“And Number Seven—” (all eyes snapped to her and Five fought against the snicker in his throat at her bewildered expression)

“—Vanya.”

A beat passed before _Vanya’s_ face broke out in the brightest smile Five had ever seen, so bright he had to blink because it was hurting his eyes. He reached out to pat her shoulder as Ben nearly pounced on her. She met his gaze and Five softened his face into a real smile. She and Ben were the only ones Five bothered smiling around.

“Now, before we have cake,” Grace said, “I’ll write out your names so you can see how they’re spelt. Your father expects you to be able to spell them correctly for the press.” She made direct eye contact with Five. “Pay close attention.”

Right, Grace said something about Vanya’s name being a gift to him as well. He’d been so preoccupied with Vanya’s reaction he’d forgotten. Except Five didn’t speak Russian, so if there was some special meaning to the name he wouldn’t know. Maybe Grace meant for him to look it up himself? What was she playing at?

Five mentally tuned out his siblings’ chatter. He watched intently as Grace turned to the whiteboard Pogo wheeled in and wrote down everyone’s names.

_Luther_  
_Diego_  
_Allison_  
_Klaus_  
_Ben_  
_Vanya_

. . . still nothing. Maybe it was some sort of code? He frowned at Grace as his siblings fought over paper and pencils. Grace only smiled at him, with artificial love and warmth but strangely a hint of . . . mischief? Had his father already managed to catch onto his defiance and put some sort of message into the name?

V was the 22nd letter of the alphabet, A was the 1st, N—14th, 25th, 1st . . . 22, 1, 14, 25, 1 . . . the total sum was 63 . . . 63 was the third Delannoy number . . . not that was stupid, there had to be more to it, maybe he should—

“How come I don’t have four letters in my name?” Four— _Klaus_ —asked.

Grace laughed. “If I did that, Luther would be a letter.”

“Yeah, Klaus, duh!” Luther said, as if he’d known all along.

“Choosing names based on your numbers isn’t what I had in mind,” Grace continued, but she was looking directly at Five. What was she . . .

He looked at Seven’s new name again and suddenly—it clicked.

Vanya.

V—a—n—y—a.

Five letters.

V

Roman numeral for . . . 

5

The room tilted, as if Five tried jumping through the floor. He gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white in an attempt to ride out the vertigo. The air thickened and it felt like someone was trying to rip his chest out. He had to leave.

“I’ll get the cake while you three-year-olds learn how to spell,” he managed to croak out before vanishing in a blue ripple of energy.

\--

Seven, no, her name was _Vanya_ now—stared at the spot Five disappeared. He’d stumbled the way he did after his special training, but his words weren’t slurred or his eyes unfocused. (She’d begged him to tell her what happened, every time but he always refused. She knew Five was trying not to worry her, but she could never get him to realize _not_ knowing made her worry more)

Maybe he just felt left out? Did he regret not wanting a name like the rest of them? It was a possibility, because Five would never admit he was wrong. That didn’t seem quite it though. Vanya glanced at Si— _Ben_ who looked just as confused.

“What was that about?” she whispered.

Ben shrugged. “We’ll just ask him later, _Vanya_ ,” he said with a wink.

A rush of excitement coursed through her again. A name! _She had a name!_ When mom announced they’d be getting names as a birthday gift this year, Vanya knew better than to get her hopes up. She was left out of everything else, why should a name be any different?

Except she wasn’t. For whatever reason, her father decided she deserved a name. Should she write him a card to thank him? No, that was too sentimental. Her father always said, _“Actions speak louder than words. Cease your useless chattering and_ show _me you can do it!”_ Vanya would work extra hard on her studies and violin practice this week instead.

But that was for later. She looked directly at her brother and giggled. “Happy Birthday, Ben!”

“Happy Birthday, Ben! Happy Birthday, Vanya!” Klaus shouted.

The living room was soon filled with giggles and screams of happy birthdays as everyone tested each other’s names. Vanya’s cheeks hurt from smiling as her name as included. She was so caught up in their game she hadn’t realized mom left until Diego spoke up.

“Wh-where’s Mom?”

“Probably making sure Five doesn’t trying jumping back with the cake,” Allison said. “Remember how the mashed potatoes exploded?” Her sheet of paper was already halfway full with her name. Vanya leaned closer and saw delicate cursive looping around the page. It was impressive how Allison managed to make something as simple as her name look like art.

“How come they all look different?” Klaus asked, also staring at Allison’s paper.

Allison flipped her hair back the way she did when she pretended to be a movie star. “Because I’m practicing for autographs,” Allison said in her fake British accent. “We’re going to be so famous, _dahlings_. We’ll have so many fans.”

“Who cares about a stupid autograph when you can give them a kiss?” Klaus leaned close to Allison, lips puckered as he made exaggerated kissing noises and spit went everywhere. Allison shrieked and tumbled out of her chair. Luther shouted and rushed to reach Allison’s side, but moved too quickly and fell, right on top of Allison. Everyone else burst out laughing. Vanya collapsed against Ben as she gasped for air. She couldn’t remember ever laughing this hard before.

What was taking Five so long with the cake? He was missing out on all the fun!

\--

The moment his feet touched the ground Five dropped to his knees. Why was, why—it was just a name! A simple ordering of letters, nothing more! It shouldn’t, shouldn’t _mean_ anything! It’s why he refused one, so why—

He heard footsteps and Five scrambled to his feet (he couldn’t let them see, couldn’t let _him_ see) but only managed to trip and his face slapped against the cool tile of the kitchen.

“Oh Five, darling.”

It was only Grace. At least it wasn’t—but it was also worse, he couldn’t—but she was— _why_ —

The tile was replaced with soft fabric and his body was wrapped around as tightly as his insides were.

“Just breathe, sweetheart it’s all right. In, out, in, out—” Five couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of a robot coaching him to breathe, but oddly enough it helped.

A few moments passed and Five’s head cleared. He opened an eye and realized he was on the floor, that Grace was on the floor and he curled up in her lap. A new jolt of panic surged through him, because what if the others saw—what would _he_ say—

“I asked Pogo to keep an eye on the others,” Grace said, brushing his hair back. Five frowned, how much time had he spent on the ground? Grace pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at his face. To Five's horror, he noticed it came back wet. He’d been crying? His stomach coiled into a knot and tried to somersault out his chest. Five clenched his fists as he drew inward for his power.

_“Please don’t go, Five!”_

His energy fizzled out. That was . . . Grace sounded almost, scared? He narrowed his eyes at Grace who looked . . . if Five didn’t know any better he’d say she winced.

But she was a robot.

The moment passed quickly enough that Five could convince himself he didn’t see it. (But he _did_ ) “It’s your birthday and you should stay here with your siblings.” Grace sounded as cheerful as ever, but Five felt there was something fake behind it. Not artificial though, and he didn’t understand how that made any sense.

“M’sorry,” he said, his voice surprisingly raspy. Oh God, he’d been crying, hadn’t he? What was wrong with him?

“I didn’t mean to hurt you like that,” Grace whispered, actually whispered, like there was someone else in the room and she didn’t want to be overheard. “I couldn’t bear for you to be left out.”

Five dragged the back of his hand underneath his nose. Why did crying have to be so disgusting? “Thank you,” he whispered back, his voice embarrassingly weak. Somehow, while he knew he should be ashamed, both for crying and finding such comfort curled up on the ground in the arms of his robot mother, Five decided he didn’t care.

Grace pulled him in once again, so gentle and yet so strong. She kissed the top of his head, tender and soft, something a simple robot should be incapable of doing, and whispered, “I love you, Five. So much.”

The tight knot in Five’s chest unraveled and frayed at that, and with it his doubts. He succumbed to the sobs bubbling in his throat and buried closer into Grace’s chest, twisting his hands into her dress for all he was worth.

Grace, his mom—was _real_. She loved them. She’d somehow evolved past Reginald’s programming and became sentient. The hope he’d smothered so long ago started to flicker, and Five dared to fan the flame.

“P-Please, mom, please! I can’t—I’m n-not—I _can’t_ —”

The grip around him tightened and his mom started rocking back and forth. “I’ve got you, Five,” she whispered, so softly Five had to strain to hear it despite her lips brushing his ear.

_“I promise to keep you safe.”_

**Author's Note:**

> The ends two ways: in canon Reginald decides Grace was being too motherly and rewrites her code to erase this from her memory banks and personality, or for my next story in this series—Grace works with Pogo to create back-ups and they murder Reginald before Five time travels, then raise the kids themselves. Properly. 
> 
> To be continued . . .


End file.
